Monthly Meet-ups: 'Writing for a Change'
in advance of its return next week: an introduction to the IWC climate writing group that served as one of the inspirations for this place
It’s difficult to follow the thread of an idea backwards; to try and remember it in its little seed form before it had grown into anything yet.
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I suppose that’s why a lifetime habit of incessant jotting and cataloguing and documenting does serve some purpose - a helping hand in following threads.
But, Google Photos albums, physical photo albums, scribbled shreds of paper, lists lists lists, fancy notebooks littered with ideas that caused excitement to bubble up only to be forgotten as life or listlessness took over, abandoned attempts in Google docs to put form and structure on those scribbles - none of it was ever for a purpose. I just like doing it.
This space for writing and sharing can be traced back to a notebook.
Once a month since the summer of 2021, usually on the last Wednesday evening of the month, I settle this notebook in my lap, take a sip from whatever drink I’ve prepared, and immerse myself in the delight of all delights: a group of people sharing stories and resources about nature and climate and everything we talk about when we talk about those things.
The next iteration, the Google doc, started as an aide-mémoire for myself, an attempt to collate all my notebooks scribblings from those months. As the doc snowballed out of all control, I thought maybe there are some other people who would appreciate its contents. Then, what I ended up writing about here snowballed out of all control, too, and only now, nearly a year later, am I writing the piece that was meant to be part of an introductory piece for this project.
Such is life.
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The group is technically a writing group, a group that started out exploring inclusion of positive climate solutions in our writing.
This means reminding ourselves and each other that to explore the realities of climate change and its effects in the most engaging way is to do so in terms of actions that need to be taken, that can be taken, and to weave these into our writing, our discussions. This isn’t to avoid sadness and grief, nor to pretend that the situation isn’t dire or to kid ourselves that individual action will reverse damage already done, and prevent future damage - it’s the opposite. It’s an attempt at honest acknowledgement, at combating the inaction and paralysis and apathy stemming from avoidance and fear and hopelessness.
Much like my Google docs, however, the evenings have snowballed beyond that. The overarching theme of the meet-ups is that facing the climate and biodiversity crises is an interdisciplinary task. That, actually, there are a lot of themes and threads, and that it’s important to explore them all, and to keep talking about them and writing about them in diverse and engaging ways. It means reckoning with injustice, and desperate and urgent need for change, and things to grieve and be angry about, and things to protect in most of the systems that form the bedrock of how we live our lives.
The sessions have shown that the moves we make to address these crises need to connect threads of science, law, ecology, creative work, storytelling, poetry, art, protest, politics and policy, civic engagement, the food industry, social justice, diversity and inclusivity … and on and on it goes. We have learned so much from so many interesting and passionate people - participants, hosts and guest speakers alike. In wanting to acknowledge and document that somehow, I’m going to share here resources gathered from my own notes, from pages I bookmarked during the sessions, from the chat windows, from the email thread, and from my own explorations and discoveries.
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This is an evolving project that I will be doing my best to update as regularly as possible. I hope this can serve, not just as a resource, but as a timestamp of those monthly gatherings that have now spanned over two years of our lives. To gather like this consistently, to refuse to look away from topics that can be frightening, is no small achievement. It’s brave and it’s hopeful, and it’s something we will be proud to look back on.
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If anyone reading this would like to join in, the next session (the first back after the summer break) is next Wednesday, September 27th at 7pm (Ireland time), as interim host Kerri ní Dochartaigh hands the reins back to original host, Lynn Buckle. It’s free - all you need to do is register, and show up on Wednesday eve on Zoom (notebooks and drinks and a million open browser tabs and maybe a Google doc, too, just for good measure, optional but encouraged).
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(I usually put this at the beginning but I’m leaving it here this time - some customary accompanying music).
Thank you for reading 🌼
If you feel the urge to comment (or write to me personally) and share any thoughts/words of your own; if someone came to mind as you read and you’d like to share this with them - please follow that instinct. It’s very welcome. While exposing yourself into the ether brings its own strange enjoyment, it’s always important and lovely to hear words ping back at you at some stage.
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I never write what set out to write. I always meander and wander on a different path, and then a new idea or thread comes up. Then, sometimes, but rarely, I verge back onto the path I originally set out on, but with new ideas and new perspectives.
I don't worry about intentions, doing, in any capacity, is enough.